


I'll kiss your open sores

by lovelysparks



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, DeanCas - Freeform, Destiel - Freeform, Fluff, Kisses, Kissing, M/M, Schmoop, a tiny bit of it at the beginning at least, no actually it's not really angst, what's a softer term for angst though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-03
Updated: 2013-06-03
Packaged: 2017-12-13 20:35:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/828598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovelysparks/pseuds/lovelysparks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They don't talk and then they do, or well, Castiel does, and then they kiss, and really, Dean doesn't know what this is or what the two of them are but right now he doesn't really care. Because right now is nice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'll kiss your open sores

**Author's Note:**

> title from the song rape me by the incredible nirvana. which, really, does nothing for the context but I felt that the line fit somehow. this is just really small and came out of nowhere. I don't write often so please be nice?

He doesn't hear him when he enters the room. He only feels the soft caress of hands on his shoulder which prompts him to turn around. "Dean..." His voice is small, merely a whisper and he sounds almost desperate. Dean's eyes widen a little at that and he turns his full body to look at the angel. His coat is ragged and dirty, his shoes full of mud, his hair dishevelled, and definitely not the good kind. His eyes are still gleaming though, bright and blue and infinite. "Cas, man, what happened? What's wrong?" His voice is alert, the worry clearly evident in his words.

  
Castiel won't talk, just closes his eyes and lets himself be held by Dean.  
He carries him onto the worn motel bed, takes off Castiel's shoes, strips him bare and cleans him with a warm and wet cloth. Dean doesn't ask.

-

The angel is tucked into orange-green sheets that remind Dean faintly of vomit on the old couch that used to be in their living room all these years ago. This motel is particularly shitty.  
Dean doesn't mind though, he just undresses himself and lies down next to Cas.  
They still don't talk.

-

Dean is roused from sleep by a hand tracing a nasty scar on his arm. It's dark and it's hella creepy until Dean remembers that's Cas next to him. It's still dark. But only a little creepy now. "What are you doing, dude?" He mumbles, voice thick with sleep.  
  
"Tracing your scars." The answer was obvious, of course. The lack of understanding for Dean's seemingly unneccesary question evident in Castiel's deep voice.  
Dean is more awake now and props up onto his ellbows.  
  
"Yeah, I kinda got that. But just, why?"  
Castiel remains silent once again. It takes a while until he raises his voice again, looking down and never stopping to touch Dean.  
  
"When I rebuilt you, your body was whole. It was new. It was complete, it had no flaw. All these years ago, for a few moments, your body was without a single scar, without a single trace of what your life has been like ever since Azazel killed your mother. I did not know much about humans back then, Dean. I know a lot more now. I know you. I now think I wish I had left your old scars on your body. I now think their presence makes you complete, and not their absence. They each tell a different story."  
  
It's a little too much for Dean, especially at three thirty in the morning. He blinks a few times before he looks the angel in the eyes. He is still not wearing any clothes apart from Jimmy's boxer briefs and his hair is tousled by lying in bed and his features are sharp and soft at the same time even in the dim light of the street lamps outside and Dean really wants to kiss him. So he does.  
  
Castiel is perplexed for a moment, but quickly eases into the touch of lips against lips, Dean's stubble scratching Cas' soft cheeks. The both of them melting into each other. At one point one of them opens their lips and neither remembers who went first but it doesn't matter, really, and soon their tongues are touching and exploring. And it's really not embarrassing when Dean lets out a small wimper and cups the angel's face in his hands to have something to hold onto.  
After what feels like forever they part, catching their breaths and just staring at each other. Cas is counting Dean's freckles when Dean's voice suddenly perks up.  
"You're so weird, Cas. I think I love you, though."  
  
He is tempted to add a "dude" or "man" because seriously, Dean Winchester is not a sixteen year old girl. But he doesn't.  
Instedad, he grabs his angel's head and kisses him, again and again and again.

_fin_


End file.
